Bewitched by Mystical Siquijor

Salagdoong Beach (Maria town, Siquijor Island; 2012)

The mention of Siquijor conjures images of witches and "mananaggal," a Filipino mythical creature similar to the vampire of Western cultures.  In the olden days, tourists who would come to the place were forewarned about receiving food from strangers.  As a consequence, a visit to Siquijor could evoke feelings of fear and anxiety for many and excitement for the more adventurous.  I counted myself among the latter.  

I fell in love with the place the first time I went there for a day trip in early 2010.  A part of me felt so at home here that I promised myself that I would on come back someday and stay longer. I even said that, when the right time comes, perhaps I would write a book here.  

On December 2011, I fulfilled a promise when I went to Siquijor for the first time in 2010.  To come back and stay longer, that is.      

The People

Filipino hospitality is still very much alive among many of the residents.  People have a way of making non-locals feel welcome and are generally very kind.  I learned that the locals had a custom of dressing up their houses with fruits during the Christmas season.   Unaware of this practice and unable to resist the sight of bananas hanging from one of the houses, I asked our tricycle driver to stop and ask if we could buy a few pieces of bananas.  The owner of the house looked both amused and confused that I wanted to buy her bananas.  She handed us a bunch - for free, with a smile.  

A Feast of Nature

What captivated me most were its beaches - pristine, serene, unlittered. The first time I went, I was in awe as our boat approached the pier.  The pier had yellowish and white sand!  It was like  being in a white sand island.  While my first beach experience was in Salagdoong Beach in the town of Maria, I think the nicer beaches are the ones in the town of San Juan.  One of the best experiences I had was spending time by the beach or by the porch of our guest house, simply allowing the waves and the serenity of the water to calm my tired and agitated nerves or writing on my journal in between daydreams and self-excavation.

Cambugahay Falls

Equally alluring is Siquijor's three-tiered Cambugahay Falls. The more than 130 steps going down to the falls was all worth it.  On my second visit, we managed to walk and climb our way to the first and highest level of the falls. Simply dipping my feet in the pool was so relaxing, somehow reminding me that I don't have to jump into all pleasant opportunities that come my way, that sometimes having a dip into a good opportunity is enough. 

Mt. Bandilaan is another must especially for those who find joy in walking amidst trees.  It was beginning to get dark when we climbed Bandilaan and so we were blessed with a quiet and peaceful walk.  

Centuries Old Churches

Being in the churches of Siquijor felt like being transported to a different time zone altogether. Most of the churches are centuries old.  The parish church dedicated to St. Isidore the farmer in the town of Lazi is the oldest.  Its wooden floor and Baroque architecture captivated me as did the convent which is the biggest in Asia.  Lingering inside the convent, I felt like Sisa, in search of Basilio and Crispin.  The museum inside the convent houses old religious articles, priestly garments, and documents that tell the story of the church and the Augustinian Friars who built these structures centuries ago.  A belfry-lover, I had a feast on the beautiful belfries of these churches of the olden days.

Centuries-old St. Isidore Church & Convent

Inner Journey at Cantabon Cave

Spelunking at Cantabon Cave was the highlight of my second visit to Siquijor partly because it was a first but mainly because of the experience itself.  The journey to the heart of Cantabon Cave spoke so much to me about the inner journey, my inner journey.

  

While there was so much anticipation at the beauty that could be seen inside, taking the journey itself especially in the face of the dark and the unknown could be daunting.   The mouth of the cave looked more like a burrow and one literally had to crawl through it to enter the cave.  That in itself made my heartbeat race faster than being in a tread mill.   I was resolved though that I would do this journey because a certain part of me felt a sense of home in caves, my inner child being a cave girl.  



Cantabon Cave

Climbing and crawling inside the cave, I didn't care how I looked like or what dirt had accumulated in my shorts and shirt (and later that night I would discover that even my undies were muddied).  All I was concerned with was coming out of the cave alive and being able to take delight in the beauty of the stalactites and stalagmites in what seemed to be a world of nothingness.      

Every now and then, I would journey in another plane as I entered my own fears about facing certain parts of my own self and took courage to remind myself of the inner beauty that the Self had to offer.  It was a dance between facing my inner resistance and anticipating the beauty and strength that could come out of such an experience, a dance of trusting another completely to guide me and trusting my inner guide who cheered me on, knowing that I had it within me to make it through, a dance of wanting to finish the journey once and for all and of living by the moment and savoring the pain and struggle and joy in each hurdle overcome.  In the depths of my Self, there was a quiet knowing that I was safe in the hands of the Great Lover.  

During challenging times and moments of "sacred idleness", I would find myself going back to my Cantabon Cave experience and journeying inwards to my inner Cantabon.